


On The Edge

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock, But it's very loving and sensual, Consensual Kink, Edging, John is a Sex God, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, There's handcuffs...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-12 23:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7128209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock learns a lesson in patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Edge

How had John not bloody  _com_ _e_ already?

That's what Sherlock found himself thinking furiously. Sweat was starting to collect at Sherlock's temples. They had been at this for, Sherlock's internal clock told him,  _at least_ thirty minutes, but it felt like longer. John had been patiently, controlledly,  _achingly slowly_ thrusting his cock into Sherlock while he was on his hands and knees. His own prick was leaking between his legs, almost purple with arousal, and aching to be touched. But John refused to touch him, and Sherlock couldn't touch himself because of the handcuffs linking his wrists to the headboard.

John pressed a kiss to Sherlock's back. "Beautiful," he whispered, sliding into Sherlock once again. Sherlock was panting.

Every time Sherlock's climax loomed near, John slowed down or stopped altogether. He would wait till the pressure inside Sherlock lessened, then start back up again. It was torture. Sherlock couldn't get enough.

As if that wasn't bad enough, when Sherlock started to twitch, John would slap one of his arsecheeks, calmly murmuring "no no", the stinging and condescension only heightening Sherlock's arousal.

"God you have a fantastic arse, Sherlock," John groaned in his ear. Sherlock shuddered. The praise turned him on too. Well, truth be told, everything  _about_ John turned him on. John slapped his left arsecheek again. "It turns so red when I spank you."

Sherlock moaned and dropped his head. That was a bad idea - now John had access to his neck. John kissed and sucked the sides of it. "You close, love?" he murmured in Sherlock's ear.

Sherlock whimpered. John took that as an affirmative and stilled, buried deep inside Sherlock, still sucking on his neck. "I could stay like this all day," John said, almost  _conversationally_ \- damn him. "All warm and cozy inside you. Would you like that, love?"

No he jolly fucking well wouldn't like that, he would _like_ to get off already. Sherlock whined his frustration, driving back against John, trying desperately to fuck himself on John's cock. "Ah-ah-ah," John lightly scolded, smacking Sherlock's arse once again. Sherlock moaned loudly, his cock straining for some relief.

John held perfectly still as he waited for Sherlock to come back down. Then slowly he began rocking into Sherlock again, his position ideal to brush Sherlock's prostate. Sherlock gasped, his hands clenching, his fingernails digging into his own palms, leaving little red crescents. "John," he gasped.

"So good for me, sweetheart, just a little longer..." John cooed in his ear.

Sherlock groaned in distress. "How the fuck are you  _doing_ this?" he half-snapped, half-moaned.

John chuckled fondly, low and soft. "Patience, love. You should try it some time."

"Patience is bo- _oh_ ," Sherlock whimpered as his sweet spot was nudged again. His cock pulsed.

Sherlock came up with an idea. He smirked to himself. He deliberately squeezed around the cock inside him, and was rewarded with the glorious sound of John moaning. Then his rear was slapped again. "No, you're not getting what you want like that," said John. Nevertheless, he did thrust extra hard into Sherlock, making him squeal as molten hot pleasure flashed through him. John rubbed his back soothingly. "You're not nearly as clever as you think, love."

"Oh, John, John," Sherlock began to whine as his orgasm began to rise again.

"Yes, I know," said John adoringly as he slowly came to a halt inside Sherlock.  _Again._

Sherlock yowled in frustration, pounding his fists against the mattress as well as he could while wearing the handcuffs.

John, draped over Sherlock's back, playfully nipped at Sherlock's neck and shoulders. "You're so adorable, even when you're angry." His hands were stroking the fronts and insides of Sherlock's thighs, so close to his aching cock, but not touching where Sherlock needed him the most. God, he was cruel.

"John,  _PLEASE_ ," Sherlock begged.

"You gonna have to be more specific than that," John said. "Come on, love. Tell me exactly what you want. Use that gorgeous filthy mouth for what it was made for."

"Fuck me," Sherlock panted. "Give it to me so hard and good I'm limping for several days afterward and everyone who sees me knows why. Fuck me so hard I can't sit down without remembering you inside me. Make me come so intensely I forget my own name."

John groaned. "My love, all you had to do was ask."

John roughly grabbed Sherlock's hips and pounded into him, making Sherlock glad Mrs. Hudson was out so she couldn't hear him scream. John spread his arsecheeks apart so he could be sure his thrusts drove into Sherlock's prostate. Sherlock was burning, being electrocuted, it felt so good.

Finally, John wrapped his hand around Sherlock's cock, and Sherlock thought he could hear angels singing. "Come with me, love," John growled.

Two strokes and Sherlock was climaxing hard, sobbing and gasping John's name, feeling as though he was exploding and combusting all at once. Sherlock could feel John expand and spill inside him, shouting his name in response. John kept thrusting up into him, kept stroking his cock, and Sherlock just kept coming and coming, having what had to be the longest, most torturously amazing climax of his life.

Finally John slid out of him and Sherlock collapsed, shaking and whimpering from overstimulation. John gathered his prone figure up in his arms, unlocking the cuffs so Sherlock could properly cuddle him. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" John interrogated him with his usual questions, in that fiercely protective and loving voice Sherlock loved so well. John checked his wrists to see if the handcuffs had worn into his skin.

Sherlock couldn't even  _speak_ , he was so high on oxytocin. He managed a reassuring gesture and a kiss at the corner of John's mouth to let him know he was alright.

"God, Sherlock, you're bloody amazing," John gasped, covering his face and neck with kisses. "So beautiful, brilliant..."

Sherlock sighed with contentment, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over him. He buried his face in John's neck and snuggled closer to him.

The last thing Sherlock could recall before passing out was John's lips at his ear, asking him in a low, warm voice: "Now, wasn't that worth the wait?"


End file.
